A/N: Hi. This is possibly the most ridiculously late chapter that I've ever posted, but I have reason. My best friend is moving interstate, and she is really well-liked so about four different people have held different farewell parties and I've had to go to those, as well as many coffees with our smaller group of friends. Plus, I've been fairly upset that she's leaving, so I haven't had all that much time to write. She leaves in two days so after that I should be free of obligations for a while and be able to get more writing done, though I remember saying this last week...

"Hermione."

The rough voice startled her and she whirled around, dropping all the books she had been sorting in the process. Placing a hand against her beating heart that felt ready to leap from her chest, she scrutinized the disturbance and glared.

"Malfoy. What are you doing here?" she snapped, waving her wand so the books that were scattered on the floor flew into a neat pile on a nearby table.

"Looking for you, as it so happens. My mother wishes to speak with you about restarting your charity, and for simple catch-up, I imagine. She asked me to be the messenger," Draco drawled.

"I would be much more appreciative if she simple owled me rather than have you be her little messenger boy, especially whilst I am at work," she scowled, scooping the books into her arms.

"It's a Sunday. The library is closed on Sundays, and you don't even work weekends," he pointed out.

"Well then, if the library is closed, how did you get in here?" Hermione demanded and he rolled his eyes.

"My family are the reason this library is even here. We have an entire wing devoted to us. I'm allowed entrance whenever I please," he stated smugly and she turned her back on him, putting the books away with more force than she ought to.

"Why did Narcissa send you?" she ground out, shoving Magical Cures for Foot Fungi into The Screaming Book of Screaming, which fell out the other side of the bookshelf. With a low growl she stomped around the shelf, quite a feat in her heels, and slammed the screaming book closed. As she bent down Draco leant around and looked at the round perfection of her ass, covered by the flimsy skirt she was wearing. He smirked.

"My mother has business in Paris to attend to. I suppose she sent me as she knows I can woo even the hardest of hearts with my charming personality and witty conversations. Perhaps she wishes me to sweep you off your feet," his eyes danced with humour, but he knew that these were exactly his mother's intentions. Of course he couldn't tell the truth to the fiery brunette who stood before him, her cheeks flushed with anger. Her curls seemed to crackle with anger.

"Then please inform your mother that I will join her at a later date. And ask her to owl the details to me. I don't have the time for an impromptu meeting with you," she snapped, shooing him from the library.

Once he was gone from her sight she fell back into a nearby armchair, closing her eyes tiredly. Since Charlie had left, three weeks ago, she had just thrown herself into her work at the library, and had been researching the most pointless things to occupy her time at home. She didn't allow herself a moment to rest, working from the time she got up until the time she fell, exhausted, into her bed each night.

She hadn't wanted a moment to think. She missed Charlie terribly, though nothing had come of their would-be relationship, but she refused to let herself get distracted by such a trivial thing as a relationship. She didn't want to re-enter the world of scandal she had escaped from when she left the wizarding world the last time, and relationships were definitely dangerous territory. She wished she could just never leave the library which, like at Hogwarts, was her sanctuary.

Her eyelids began to droop and she let out a yawn. From her rough guesses she had achieved a grand total of eight hours sleep in the last three nights, having stayed up late researching and reading and arriving at work before Lucinda had. Of course, the repercussion of this was absolute exhaustion, and she found that if she switched off her brain for half a moment then sleep would try and overtake her.

With a loud sigh she decided that perhaps she should just go home and rest, and with that choice made she spun on the spot and disappeared with a loud crack that made The Screaming Book of Screaming let out one last muffled shriek.

Draco had rolled his eyes at his mother's request and had argued until he was blue in the face, but there was no swaying Narcissa Malfoy when she had made up her mind. This was why he was unlatching the gate that lead up to Hermione's home on a sunny Sunday morning, two weeks after the encounter in her workplace.

He truly appreciated her little house. It was a decent size and powder blue, with a classic white trim along the roof. There was a small front garden with an old oak tree and window boxes overflowing with flowers. Over the top of the low roof he could glimpse the tips of another tall oak, and he found himself walking up the stone path and admiring the perfectly green grass. He had the inkling that it was kept magically; Hermione had never seemed to have a great interest in Herbology, though she of course held perfect marks.

There was a little bench on the front porch and he picked a petunia from a pot as he knocked on the door. He waited patiently for a few moments and heard the sound of approaching footsteps and, in a particularly cheesy gesture, held the petunia out in front. The door opened and he was faced with a very upset Hermione Granger.

Her eyes were pink and puffy and there were tear tracks marking her cheeks. He couldn't help but dart his eyes downward when he realized all she was wearing was a tank top and a pair of knickers with a satin robe hanging around her frame, untied.

"Oh, fuck," she muttered, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes and crooked glasses. With a gasp she realized what she was wearing and hurried to cover herself up, but he had already caught an eyeful, and what a wonderful eyeful it was. "Why are you here?"

"Why are you crying?" he asked, sidestepping her and entering the front hallway. The hardwood floors were dark and the walls a light, cheery yellow, photographs hanging in pretty frames, muggle and magical.

"Did I say you could come in?" she snapped, but closed the door and began to lead him into the next room, her front lounge. It looked more like a library than anything, and he glanced at the titles in interest. "Why are you here? I told you to get your mother to send me an owl if she wanted to contact me, not use you as her little messenger boy."

"Mother prefers a more personal approach, and she is busy catching up with friends today, so she sent me to meet you," he stated. "Now, I've answered your question, so you answer mine."

She glared at him and he grinned back. They remained in silence for three minutes before Hermione let out an infuriated snort and threw The Daily Prophet at him. "Front page," she snapped. "I'm going to go and get changed, and for Godric's sake, do not touch anything."

He nodded absently, sitting down in a chair by the window. A white cat jumped onto the arm of the chair and perched there, observing him with wide eyes as he read the article.

War Hero a Proud Father

After a life of fighting some of the darkest wizards our world has ever seen, a little more light is now shining into the life of Ron Weasley, war hero, and his fiancée Marietta Edgecomb. The couple welcomed a daughter, Rose Cedrella, in the early hours of Saturday morning. A source close to the couple say both the mother and new baby are doing fine, and they will be released from St. Mungo's Hospital by Monday morning.

Harry Potter, defeater of You-Know-Who and best friend to Ron Weasley had been named Rose's godfather, but has declined comment on the state of the young family.

Ron and Marietta are due to marry in five weeks at what is reported to be a large ceremony to be held on the ground of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

For pictures of the new family, pick up a copy of next Monday's The Daily Prophet for exclusive photographs and interviews with the parents.

Draco snorted and rolled up the newspaper. So this was why she was crying. The Weasel had finally reproduced, and with that pock-marked Ravenclaw no less. He shook his head at the stupidity of Hermione's emotions just as she walked back into the room dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. This was the most dressed down he'd seen her since Hogwarts.

"Are you seriously crying over the fact that Weasley had a kid?" Draco asked doubtfully as Hermione curled into an armchair.

"I couldn't give a damn about his progeny," she snapped, scratching her cat, who had moved to her chair.

"Well then why are you a blubbering mess?" Draco frowned. He had never been brilliant with crying girls but honestly, what man was?

"He called the baby Rose," Hermione's voice cracked and more tears began. "That was supposed to be our name!" She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees, and began to wail.

'Oh shit,' Draco thought. He hated when women cried, especially when a woman as strong as Hermione cried. He just sat there, looking at her with an appalled face until she calmed down enough to shoot him a glare.

"How nice and consoling of you," she snapped, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. "If you've had enough of watching me cry, then you can leave. Of course, I can always give an encore performance."

"Hey, I like a healthy dose of drama. Watching it, at least. Anyway, what do you say?"

"What do I say about what?" she asked sharply, removing the last traces of her emotions.

"Meeting with my mother. She's quite persistent, don't you think?" he grinned at her collected state, glad he wouldn't have to deal with any more crying women.

"If it means I can get you the hell out of my house, then tell your mother I'll meet her in Diagon Alley next Saterday."

"Diagon Alley? Really?" he snorted and she sent him a watery glare. "I believe my mother was thinking more along the lines of lunch in Paris."

"Paris?" she asked sceptically and he nodded. "Fine. Paris it is. Now, get the hell out of-"

She didn't get a chance to finish kicking him out because at that moment the fireplace filled with bright green flames and out came Ginny, immediately engulfing Hermione in a hug. Draco stood awkwardly in the room, waiting for the redhead to notice him.

"Oh Hermione, I'm so sorry about my git of a brother," she said when they broke apart and she took in the brunette's tearstained face. "I absolutely cannot believe he called his daughter Rose."

"Don't worry about it, Gin. It shouldn't matter to me this much. I'll be fine," Hermione assured her friend.

Somewhat annoyed at the fact that he was being ignored, Draco cleared his throat quite loudly, causing both of the women in the room to turn and face him with identical angry expressions.

"What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ginny snapped and he stepped back, raising his hands in defence.

"I was simply here on my mother's wishes to invite Hermione out for lunch. Nothing bad, I promise you," he tried to convince her but she let out a sound like a very angry cat and he couldn't help but retreat once more.

"Malfoy, you've given your message and I've replied with my own. You're free to leave, so just go," Hermione said and he didn't think twice before hurrying from the house.

Hermione on her own he could handle, but he knew that Potter's wife was very feisty and didn't think twice before throwing hexes around. He reached the end of the street and disapparated loudly.

Hermione hummed quietly to herself, returning three books on giants in the Great Dividing Range of Australia that had been left out by a visitor to the library. She had enjoyed a long heart to heart with Ginny regarding Ron and his new daughter, and then Hermione had poured her heart out to her friend about Charlie.

Since he had left, Charlie had sent an owl every single day without fail. Most of them were short apologies, but sometimes he detailed her on what had been occurring in Romania. She hadn't replied to any of them, but had read them all numerous times. Ginny hadn't been all that shocked about the would-be romance between her older brother and her friend, but she was still surprised to see how far the romance had progressed.

"Hermione, can you help me close up?" Lucinda asked, appearing beside Hermione.

"Sure, just give me a second. I want to take some books home on Eastern magical healing procedures," Hermione grinned guiltily and Lucinda chuckled.

"I'll go and get the best books we have on that and check them out for you. Meet me at the front in five, but look out. The press are still swarming around and looking for a statement for you on your ex-husband's kid. She's a cute baby," the shorter witch remarked and Hermione nodded absently. She had chosen to ignore all mention of Ron and Rose, and that included when it came to the press. They had been waiting around the library all through her work hours, waiting for her to leave the building so they could get an exclusive comment.

Seven minutes later Hermione was pushing through the crowds of reporters, purposefully stepping on Lavender Brown's foot with her rather large black heel. The blonde had shrieked in pain but Hermione was already gone at that point, reappearing on her front porch to a very happy Altheda. The cat mewed loudly, rubbing herself against Hermione's black pants and dusting them with white fur. Hermione chuckled and scratched the feline's ears, unlocking the door with a quick wave of her wand.

It was Friday evening and she was planning on just curling up in her lounge with a cup of tea and her books she had borrowed. She was meeting with Narcissa the next morning at Malfoy Manor where they were then taking a portkey to Paris. They were leaving early and Hermione wanted to appear marginally decent when she was in Paris, so she was waking early to prepare herself for the day, and it was due to this that by eight o'clock that evening she was curled in bed, fast asleep.

Her wand began to vibrate on the table at six o'clock the next morning and she groaned and rolled over to shut it up. The early autumn morning was cold and she shuddered once her feet hit the floorboards. She was expected at the Manor at eight but the warmth of her shower kept her in the bathroom until half past six at which point the bathroom was so steamed up she couldn't see more than an inch in front of her face. She wrapped a towel around her middle and returned to her bedroom to shrug on a bathrobe. Altheda opened one eye at the disturbance but snuggled back into the covers.

"Lucky cat," Hermione muttered, bracing herself against the cold and shuffling to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea and some toast. By seven thirty she had lost all track of time and was still seated at the table, and it was only when Altheda jumped onto the table that Hermione looked up from her book and shrieked at the time, effectively scaring the cat from the table.

She ran back to her room, discarding her robe on the way, and rifled through her wardrobe, eventually pulling out a pair of white jeans, a grey shirt and black blazer. The outfit was snug and outside her normal attire, and she had never built up the guts to wear the jeans, but they seemed appropriate for the day's activities.

Half an hour later she had applied some light makeup and pulled her hair into a loose ponytail at the back of her head and was locking up her house. She hurried to a deserted area and apparated away quickly, stumbling on arrival at Malfoy Manor due to her terrifyingly high heels. By this point she was already two minutes late, and tardiness was heavily frowned upon by both the Malfoys and Hermione, so, despite the shoes that threatened to tip her over at any moment, she began an awkward run up the drive to the front doors.

"Hermione, I was getting worried that you would not be able to make the portkey in time," Narcissa said calmly. The older witch had been waiting just outside the doors beside a jewel encrusted comb. "Come now, dear. It's about to leave."

As Hermione quickly placed a finger on the comb it began to glow blue. She felt the familiar tug behind her navel and the world spun for a few moments, and then she touched down in Paris.

A/N: I hate this chapter. It's just a filler. Not only is this a filler, but it's a terribly short chapter as well. Far shorter than I had hoped. But please review anyway, and if you have any questions about the story or anything else then don't hesitate to ask. Also, there is a link in my profile which has all outfits the females in this story wear as well as all the representations of the characters in my story. Go go go!

Also, Cedrella is the name of Ron's paternal grandmother. It isn't just some totally bizarre name I pulled out of nowhere.

Anyway, please review! The next chapter will be the excitements of Paris.